


Slow Body Quick Mind

by palefire12



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Autistic Character(s), Autistic Pidge|Katie Holt, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Pidge is 16, its hinted at that keith is autistic too, nonbinary masculine identifying pidge, tbh this whole fic is just me self projecting and i aM SORRY, the rest of the team is mentioned but not active in the fic, the shidge can be platonic or romantic i leave it up to you but its pretty chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 14:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8627644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palefire12/pseuds/palefire12
Summary: Pidge’s body had always been slow: slow to grow, slow to heal. Waiting for a papercut to stop hurting, for their hair to get longer, for a broken nail to grow back out, for their height to go up by just an inch. Everything always took forever and they hated it
Pidge’s mind had always been quick: quick to think, quick to assess a situation, quick to find a solution. Sometimes too quick, their brain would run for hours on just one thought string. Most of the time they thought about their dad and Matt, that’s why they went into the garrison in the first place. 
alternatively: save pidge 2k16





	

     

 

Pidge’s body had always been slow: slow to grow, slow to heal. Waiting for a papercut to stop hurting, for their hair to get longer, for a broken nail to grow back out, for their height to go up by just an inch. Everything always took forever and they hated it. At the garrison their peers assumed too much, either treating them like a child or giving them dirty looks for getting in early or being a child prodigy, though hardly any younger than their fellow classman. A soft faced, short statured, high voiced, underdeveloped sixteen year old “girl” trying to pass for a boy in a space based military flight school full of boys who were tall, broad shouldered, and in the last stages of puberty (if not past it, there were plenty of adult students in the garrison), was hard. Sometimes they would get called out, labeled as “Tranny” or “girly-boy” while walking through the corridors but it doesn’t bother them much personal level though it’s still rude and insensitive.

 

* * *

 

   

 Pidge’s mind had always been quick: quick to think, quick to assess a situation, quick to find a solution. Sometimes too quick, their brain would run for hours on just one thought string. Most of the time they thought about their dad and Matt, that’s why they went into the garrison in the first place. They told their mother their plan, packed a duffle bag, and set out on their mission to find the rest of the Holt family. Quick to think of a new name, a new story. They were excited to have a new identity and happy to be on the track to finding their lost loved ones. Things changed though. There was the mental shift from Katie Holt to Pidge Gunderson, changing their feminine mannerisms into what they perceived as masculine. There was the realization that finding Sam and Matt was going to take a whole lot longer than they had hoped. There was the load of actual work that came with the Garrison classes, not that it was hard for them but the sheer amount of it was ridiculous. At least they could finish what needed to be done during the quiet dark hours when all the other cadets were sleeping. Insomnia always managed to come in handy in those days, finishing work, building equipment, sneaking their way to the roof after hours. They would sit and wait, listen, readjust the settings to get a cleaner signal, sit, listen, and repeat. Thus leading to the vague knowledge of some super weapon called Voltron that someone wanted, sometimes they’d pick up what sounded like brags or bets on someone called “The Champion”, who was apparently some undefeated boss in the ring. Pidge got all sorts of bad vibes about the whole situation, but then again who wouldn’t?

 

* * *

 

 

     Months pass, their body still slow, mind still quick. The chatter around Voltron is getting more aggressive, plans being set into motion. Talk of invasion and extraction made its way through their headphones. They knew things were going to change and for once Pidge didn’t know what to do. They had never liked change, they didn’t like new things or straying from their schedule. If there was going to be a change they needed time to prepare for it. And sure they had time but they didn’t know how much time, and yeah they had info but unlike every other time before Pidge didn’t have an outcome, there was no answer to this equation and that in and of itself was over whelming. There was always an answer to a problem, a solution to the equation, a logical explanation.  There had to be, that’s just the way things worked.

 

* * *

 

 

     When Takashi Shirogone came plummeting from the sky Pidge didn’t quite know what to do. Two of their classmates had interrupted their roof radio information gathering time, one of them repeatedly messing with their equipment (rude), when an unidentified flying object breached the atmosphere. The Garrison had the area quarantined and monitored, while it was an obstacle there was an upside to everything. They easily surpassed the mainframe and firewall, gaining access to the video feed inside the tents. Sure enough there was the pilot of the “failed” Kerberos mission, but Sam and Matt were nowhere in sight. The blond was stunned into numbness, moving on instinct and bluntly saying the first things that came to mind when spoken to. Pidge didn’t much like the way things went from there, all fast paced movements without thought put into them.

 

* * *

 

 

      By the time the five of them made it a month into life in the Castle of Lions pidge was actively trying to accept the fact that there was no comfort in time or schedules. Sure there was planned times for training sessions, meals, and lights out, but beyond that they were left to simmer. Not to mention the fact that the startling painful screech of the castle alarms could go off at any second without warning. Those moments were some of the worst for them. The sharp, loud, repetitive noise never failed to make the panic set in, lucky for them Shiro was usually there to ground them or at least make them get their shit together enough to pilot green without too many problems.

     The team tried their best to accommodate to Pidge, they did for everyone because let’s face it, seven people (or five people and two aliens if we’re being particular) all stuck together on a castle ship in space. Everyone had their own quirks, Pidge just happened to have a few more than the rest of them (besides maybe Keith). They usually tried to avoid the word that labels all the little different things about them because of the stigma that followed it, but it was okay out here because everyone sans Allura and Coran knew and understood and even they didn’t point it out. They understood the excited hand flaps, nervous rocking, and everything in between and Pidge was nothing short of grateful for it.

 

* * *

 

 

     It was bound to happen and they knew it. They knew that their body would try and catch up with their brain at some point but that knowledge didn’t make dealing with it any easier. At first it wasn’t that bad, their binder was just a little bit tighter and they had to wear their shorts a little bit higher on their waist because their hips were starting to get in the way. But it wasn’t awful… it was manageable at _worst._ Soon enough though, other things about Pidge started to change and it wasn’t restricted to their body anymore. Their moods changed, sometimes to the extreme levels that ended in arguments or hurt feelings. But the worst of it was yet to come. It started with a stomach ache during breakfast that escalated to something much more intense by the time training came around. Besides the constant dull ache, the pain was getting sharper, like getting stabbed just below the navel with a rusty fork then having it twisted around. They wound up flat on their back because it was so distracting.

      The day went on like that, a sharp pain here, a sore spot on their back there, and eventually some nausea. They skipped lunch and took a nap on the couch in the commons instead. Sleep came surprisingly easy to them despite the pains and incessant insomnia.  Breakfast and bile was their rude awakening, rushing to the nearest waste bin was a struggle in and of itself. Shiro was there in a matter of seconds though they hadn’t had the time to notice his presence in the first place. He rubbed Pidge’s back in slow soothing circles and gently removed their crooked glasses so they wouldn’t fall off completely. Quietly as though not to startle them he mention the blood on their shorts. They threw up again.  

      Shiro managed to get them cleaned up and changed into softer more comfortable clothes, making sure that they had all the essentials. Pidge was uncomfortable, not used to having so much attention paid to them and certainly not to being pampered. It was weird and overwhelming but not… bad perse. They were now well stocked on pain killers, tampons, and water pouches thanks to Shiro. He also let them use his hand as a person heating pad, promising to be there for them as long as they needed him. It was nice. He did his best to interpret their non-verbal silence and console them through their mental discomfort and dysphoria. And _whooh boy_ was there dysphoria. So much about the whole situation felt wrong, while they knew periods weren’t a specifically feminine thing considering the wide range of gender identities that didn’t stop them from feeling like it was. They knew they weren’t a girl but hell if it didn’t feel like their body was trying to tell them otherwise. They cried, but it was okay because Shiro was there. 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
